Blessed
by NightChild
Summary: a birthday, a letter and a surprise for Rogue. R/W


AUTHOR: Yi dan Lin  
  
EMAIL: danza29@hotmail.com  
  
SUMMARY: Rogue's 17th B'day, a gift from Logan, a letter, a surprise and some tragedy  
  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of these characters so please don't sue me . The songs are '17' 'Crush' by Mandy Moore and 'Skin against Skin' by DJ Krush. Not mine  
  
* Thoughts  
  
|| Telepathy  
  
  
  
1.1 Only 17  
  
1.1.1 By Yi dan Lin  
  
Some people tell me, that you're not my kind  
  
And I believe them, but I can't get you out of my mind  
  
Some people tell me that I should stay away  
  
Maybe I will... some other day  
  
I'll learn my lessons, and I'll make mistakes  
  
And If I get burned, it'll be my heart to break  
  
It isn't easy, hearing what they say  
  
Sometimes you've got to take a leap of faith  
  
'Cause it feel right  
  
And it feels good  
  
And I'm not gonna do something stupid  
  
Just this once, I wanna feel like  
  
I can do what I want when I hold tight  
  
Anyone, who's ever been in love  
  
Has got to know  
  
What it means to have a dream  
  
And no one can say anything  
  
To change my mind, no, not this time  
  
I don't wanna do right, I just want you tonight  
  
Not just only in my dreams  
  
Save my best behavior, for a little later  
  
'Cause I'm only 17  
  
Think I made my mind up, I got time to grow up  
  
Face responsibility  
  
Livin' in the moment, keepin' my heart open  
  
While I'm only 17]  
  
  
  
Rogue woke up with a start. What was that screaming? Daylight streamed through her window and she finally peeled open her eyes to find.  
  
Jubilee and Kitty jumping on her bed, screaming, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!"  
  
Rogue groaned. This was going to be one hell of a day.  
  
She lifted the covers and gentry stood up. She was abruptly pulled into a tight embrace by Jubilee. Rogue pulled back instinctively, afraid she might hurt her with her touch. Jubilee let go, and understood the look in her eyes. She said gently, "Rogue, its okay. I made sure I was touching your pajamas."  
  
Rogue smiled and nodded. She had come to trust this girl over the last year. Kitty too. They was wild, fun-loving, cheeky. but trustworthy, kind and understanding.  
  
Kitty giggled. "What does seventeen feel like, Rogue?"  
  
"Like I've got an aching migraine from being woken up by two screaming hooligans !" Rogue said with a grin, " I guess it feels . a lot like sixteen."  
  
Jubilee broke the serenity of the moment by grabbing Rogue by the gloves and dragging her downstairs. "Come on, Rogue! Let's get you a nice birthday breakfast!" Rogue stumbled after her, nearly falling down the stairs.  
  
This was gonna be one hell of a day.  
  
____________________________________________________________________  
  
Storm handed her the knife, which Rogue accepted into her gloved hand. She made the first introductory cut into the chocolate cake. Everyone cheered as the knife sunk into the creamy chocolately goodness.  
  
"I think she touched the bottom of the cake! You know what that means," Jubilee said in a suggestive voice," Someone's gotta kiss the nearest boy!" Bobby who was sitting next to Rogue, blushed.  
  
Kitty gave her a sharp nudge. "Ouch!" Jubilee grimaced, rubbing her rib. "I was only kidding," she mumbled darkly.  
  
Rogue smiled as she surveyed the faces around her. Jean had taken over the cake-cutting, with Scott leaning protectively over her shoulder. He gave her an approving glance. Bobby and Remy were fighting over a slice of the cake. Iceboy froze Remy to the floor, whilst Gambit singed Bobby's hair. Both gave her a little wave and a smile when they saw her laughing at them. Both dropped the plate-with-cake in question onto the floor as they did so. "It wasn't me!" both shouted at the same time.  
  
Storm was fixing a birthday streamer to the wall of the kitchen. It stubbornly refused to stick and kept dropping onto her hair. Using her power, Storm blew the streamer against the wall and then tacked it quickly. She gave Rogue a warm smile.  
  
Jubilee and Kitty were both jumping up and down, hands outstretched with waiting presents. "OHHHH OPEN THIS ONE!!" they screamed.  
  
All these people had gathered together for her 17th birthday. A year ago, she couldn't have imagined even knowing all these people. People without hate, people without judgment. People like her.  
  
She felt like she was part of a family, part of a home. But there was someone missing.  
  
Rogue's hand instantly reached for the dogtags she knew were always there. *Logan.* You would have imagined that she would be happy that all these people were here for her. But she would have happily exchanged this just for one person to be here. When she was sixteen, Logan had been with her. Seventeen, he was not.  
  
*What did you expect?* She scolded herself a little harsher than necessary. *He left you,* screamed the bitter side of Rogue. *No, he'll be back,* replied the reason in her.  
  
*Ah, he was trying to find himself. He needed to find himself. Heck, so did I.*  
  
She was content with all her friends around her. Friends she had learned to love.  
  
She looked around. Storm walked up to her with a piece of cake in her hand. "For the birthday girl," she said softly, extending the plate to her. " Thank you" replied Rogue, with real gratitude in her heart.  
  
________________________________________________________________________  
  
The festivities went on. Rogue wasn't lucky enough to avoid class for the day. But she was glad she was there today. People who she had met, people who passed her by in the halls wished her happy birthday. She was happy.  
  
But throughout the day, a longing tugged at her heart.  
  
*Maybe he'll come back today! Maybe he remember its my birthday and he'll come back and surprise me, * cried the little girl inside of her, ever hopeful.  
  
"Ah Marie, you're older now. Get a grip," she muttered to herself. But that hope lingered in her. Until the day had passed and the sun was setting and that hope died out.  
  
*Did you really think he would put off finding his past just to see you?? Just to see his 'kid', his little Marie? * a voice tainted her,* you're still so naïve.*  
  
Tired, Rogue started to climb the stairs to her bedroom. And stopped.  
  
There, lying on the doormat, just beside the door, was a parcel. It sat there, whispering to her, like it had been expecting her to come along. She ran to it, peering at it curiously. *I wonder who its for?*  
  
She bent down and looked at the label on the package. Her heart skipped. *Marie *  
  
There was her name, on the parcel. Her heart jumped more when she saw the Canadian stamp on the postage. * Could it be?*  
  
She gently picked up the package in her hands. Turned it over. Examined it. Just plain old brown paper. She shook it. Something rattled against the box.  
  
*What are you waiting for? * She asked herself. Gently she ripped open the brown paper packaging.  
  
Inside was a gold box. Out fell an envelope.  
  
It said *Marie,* in bold black print.  
  
She opened it, carefully.  
  
*Dear Marie,  
  
Hey how are ya, kid? Are ya doing okay? I bet you thought I forgot didn't ya. But I never forget the birthday of a friend. Now I don't want you to spread that I'm real sentimental or anything like that. But I got you something. Hope you like it. Miss ya.  
  
Logan*  
  
Rogue's eyes widened at the name at the bottom. She smiled and clutched the card to her chest. It was Logan. He had sent her a gift!  
  
She lifted the card in her hand and took it and the box upstairs to the privacy of her room.  
  
2 *This isn't as good as the real thing. But it's enough *  
  
________________________________________________________________________  
  
[You know everything that I'm afraid of  
  
You do everything I wish I did  
  
Everybody wants you, everybody loves you  
  
I know I should tell you how I feel  
  
I wish everyone would disappear  
  
Every time you call me, I'm too scared to be me  
  
And I'm too shy to say  
  
I got a crush on you  
  
I hope you feel the way that i do  
  
I get a rush  
  
When I'm with you  
  
Ooh, I've got a crush on you  
  
A crush on you  
  
You know, I'm the one that you can talk to  
  
And sometimes you tell me thing that i don't want to know  
  
I just want to hold you  
  
And you say exactly how you feel about her  
  
And I wonder, could you ever think of me that way  
  
You say everything that no one says  
  
But i feel everything that you're afraid to feel  
  
I will always want you, I will always love you  
  
I've got a crush...]  
  
Carefully cradling the package, Rogue walked into her room. It was empty since Jubilee and Kitty were playing foozball with Bobby and Remy. She closed the door softly. The room was dark. She walked to her bed and turned on her bedside lamp. Then she sank into her bed, nestling under the covers as she clutched at the box in her hand. She took a deep breathe, looking down at the box in wonder. *What could it be? Logan isn't much of a shopper.*  
  
She put both her gloved hands on the lid of the box, not wanting to lift it and look inside yet. She just traced the edges of the box with her fingers in fascination. *Oh what are you waiting for? *  
  
She put her hands on the side of the box and slowly, gently, lifted the lid of the box. Whatever it was, it was covered with layers of gold tissue paper. She carefully peeled back the layers until the gift lay there, exposed to her eyes. It was.  
  
A silver silk shawl. It was made of a thin material, and woven tightly into a delicate design of silver snowflakes. It was feather-light as she lifted it out of the box.  
  
She peeled off her gloves quickly, she wanted to feel the material next to her skin. It was soft, like silk. She brought the shawl to her face, let it caress smoothly against her cheeks. She buried her nose in it. It had a faint scent of .cigar smoke. It smelt. like Logan.  
  
She took off her jacket and t-shirt until she was down to a tank top. She held the shawl behind her. and draped it across her shoulders. The smooth silk slide across her skin. It was light and feathery to the touch. Looking in the mirror, she reveled in the image of the silver shawl against her skin. *For a guy, Logan does have good taste. *  
  
As she turned to admire the shawl in the mirror from all directions, she accidentally kicked the gift box she had put onto the floor. There was a thump as something rolled and hit the side of the box. She bent down to pick up the box and tipped the box upside down on the lid, curious to see what else was contained in it. Something long, thin and brown rolled out.  
  
A cigar.  
  
Rogue laughed, the sound drifting like bells around the room. How entirely typical of the guy. She wondered how it got there. Rogue briefly entertained the idea that it had somehow dropped into the box by mistake as he was wrapping the present.  
  
3 * Nah *  
  
If it had been any other guy, she would have given them the benefit of the doubt. But Logan. he'd probably put it there as a cheeky reminder of what a bad influence he can be. Logan didn't like to follow the rules. He made them.  
  
Logan had good intentions at times. he just strayed from your average path. A lot.  
  
Anyhow, he would probably known that she wouldn't smoke it.  
  
Rogue picked up the cigar and put it under her nose. It's deep musky scent lingered in her nostrils. This was Logan. His scent.  
  
She put the cigar in her mouth. Just to see what it would be like. She put on a deep scowl, swung her hair over her face and tried to do a Logan impersonation. "Whatcha starin' at, darlin'?" she growled in a deep husky voice through clenched teeth. The glint of mischief in her eye would have made him proud. She laughed at herself, a willowy long haired brunette, with pale skin, trying to look tough, with a cigar dangling out of her mouth.  
  
At the same time, there was a pang somewhere in her heart of longing and hurt - a part of her was missing him.  
  
A breeze gently drifted in from her bedroom window, it tickled her neck, gently blowing her hair, teasing the shock of white hair coursing through her auburn locks. The shawl rose up and down her shoulders, buffeted by the wind. Standing there, in front of the mirror, with moonlight streaming through the window and the wind playfully tugging with her hair, she felt a shiver run through her body, and goosebumps on her arm that she wasn't sure were entirely from the cold. It seemed in that moment, there was a presence in the room. Logan was tbere with her, if not in body, but in spirit.  
  
Rogue started humming an old French number she had heard that day when she was riding in Logan's trailer. The soft haunting notes echoed through the air, as they rose and fell to an invisible score. She closed her eyes and lost herself to the music. Her body started to move gently in time. She envisioned she was dancing with Logan, his muscled arms wrapped tightly around her waist, her hands on his broad shoulders. The shawl caressed her skin like invisible fingers.He would hold her close to him, his warm flooding her. She would put her head on his shoulder and let him whirl her around, waltzing to the music. In the room, Rogue waltzed to the music, arms around an invisible dancer, eyes closed, senses stimulated, mind enthralled with the song, about a man who lost his true love. Her body was tingling. The atmosphere was electric. It felt so romantic. It felt so right.  
  
*But what happens when the songs ends? Would he just let her go and walk away too?*  
  
Rogue drew in a deep breath. It was suddenly painful to breathe. The ghostly dream Logan vanished instantly, the vision seem to dissolve into thin air. It seemed her mind would never let her be at peace. It always had to associate everything with pain.  
  
Why did she always have to question everything? Even something that felt so right.  
  
She was suddenly angry and frustrated. Why did it have to be like this? Why couldn't she just love him? Why couldn't she just live?  
  
* When will I ever gather the courage to tell him how I feel? What if, like the man in the song, I will only grow into an old women, never truly having experienced loved, experienced life, because I had been too scared?*  
  
Rogue sat back down onto the bed. The wind still blew at her curtains, ruffled her hair. But it sounded harsher to her ears now. It seemed angry, rattling her blinds and blowing papers off her desk.  
  
Rogue put her head in her hands and started to cry. All the feelings of neglect, hopelessness, rejection, it just poured out of her, like she had opened the flood gates, a torrent of emotions. She had never felt so helpless before. Here she was, in the first place she had ever felt safe from outsiders, from others, from herself. For the first time, she had finally started feeling like she had some control over her power, her life. All her life, she had just went along with the flow, let herself drift in whichever direction life seemed to be taking her. But now, now she finally felt like she could change her destiny, shape her life instead of just being a passenger to it. But at the same time, she felt scared. Alone. Vulnerable. She had taken another step into the unknown, a new chapter in her life. The first step she had taken was to befriend Logan. For a long time, she was afraid that she would never trust anyone again. The next step was deciding she wanted to stay at Professor Xavier's school. For once, Rogue was going to settle somewhere. She had always been on the run. But when she made those steps, Logan had been by her side. He had been there, watching her, protecting her, supporting her. Now she was reaching a new and life-altering phase of her life, She was wielding real power. And it scared her. And he wasn't here. She was truly alone.  
  
Rogue felt a lot older than seventeen.  
  
She curled under the covers. * What would Logan do if he was here?* He would hold her, whisper comforting words into her ear. He would give her a lopsided grin and say in his gruff yet tender way, " Everything's gonna be alright, kid." * Kid. * He would treat her like a child. Suddenly resolve started to gather within her. She wanted Logan here because he would treat her like an innocent, naïve girl of sixteen. She wasn't a kid anymore. She was seventeen. Strong. Confident. * Independent? Do I dare say that I'm independent?*  
  
She was a young woman now. She had strength and courage he would never have attributed to her a year ago. She had *belief* in herself, something she didn't have at earlier times in her life, when she had just cowered away. She had strength.  
  
*I am strong.  
  
I am invincible.  
  
I am woman.*  
  
All this she knew. And yet, she didn't even have the courage to say what she felt for Logan? It was strange. Sometimes it is hardest to say how the things you want to say to the ones you love. Sometimes its hard to say things that might hurt the ones you love.  
  
What was she really afraid of? *That maybe, maybe somewhere deep inside, Logan might feel the same way. *  
  
It was stupid. Immature. Childish. She was seventeen now. Some might say it is only twelve months in a year, but to her, it was a lifetime's worth of change.  
  
She would do it. She would write Logan a letter. She would tell him how she really felt.  
  
[Don't wanna love you if you don't love me  
  
Don't wanna need you when you won't need me too  
  
Don't wanna tell you this now, but it wouldn't be right  
  
If I didn't tell you this tonight]  
  
With determination, Rogue rose to sit at her desk. She turned on a desk light and grabbed some letter paper from the desk drawer. Pen poised, more importantly, *heart* poised, she started to write.  
  
________________________________________________________________________  
  
4 *Logan  
  
Remember when I first met you? I was running away, trying to escape my past. I was heading to Alaska, because I heard it was the most isolated place in the world. It was the only place I thought I would be safe - safe from hurting others, safe from hurting myself. Then I met you.  
  
You changed my life. When I saw you, met your eyes as you got your money from the bar. there was something there. A connection. You understood me like no one else had ever even tried. And when you promised me that you would look after me in the train that afternoon, I knew I was safe. I no longer felt the urge to go to Alaska, because I was safe with you. I didn't feel alone anymore. We were birds of a feather..  
  
All of my life I thought I could never touch anyone again. But you let me touch you, or you touched me. twice. It had always hurt me to know that touch, contact, was my deadliest gift and yet it was always my only wish. I needed to feel. But I knew that I could only hurt the ones I loved. Look how I hurt you, when I touched you that night in your room. I knew I shouldn't have, but that moment, I thought I was going to die, and the last thing I ever wanted to do was to touch the first person who had cared for me, even. loved me. After I nearly killed you that time, I thought you would never come near me again, and certainly never touch me. And that hurt me, because yours was the only touch that soothed me. To be folded in your arms. to have your cheek against mine, it was my deepest fantasy. I thought you would hate me. but you didn't. You were Logan. You were the only one who wasn't afraid to touch me, wasn't scared of me. You were strong, you were rash, gentle, oh how passionate and fiery. You were Logan and you still loved me as I was. This monster who delivers a kiss of death.  
  
Oh I knew you loved me. I didn't know what kind of love. I couldn't seem to find the words describe the way you love me. It's not the way I love you. or the way y-you might love Jean. Sometimes I feel like I'd erupt with envy when you smile at her, flirt with her - caress her. She gets to feel the warmth of your hands on hers, skin to skin, instead of through the barrier of material I have to put between us. But I'm content, most of the time, to just know. you love me. in your own special way. God, you nearly died for me. If that's not enough for a girl to feel loved.. I didn't know what more to ask of you.  
  
Maybe you didn't love me the way I loved you. wholly. But you cared for me in the way no one ever has.  
  
  
  
Then you left me. I understood that there were places you weren't ready to take me, things you weren't ready to share. You needed to be alone. I understood that feeling. I was girl who had needed to be alone her whole life. I knew there were many things that you hid from me. You were always so private. But I was grateful you had shared what you did. I had glimpses of your past when you were in my head. Afterwards I had some of your nightmares. I saw flashes of what they did to you and I cried for you. The girl who had too much past, crying for a man without one. So when you left, I let you. I didn't beg you to stay, although every particle in my body wanted to lash out and hold on to you, body to body. Because now, for the first time in my life, I didn't want to be alone anymore. But I only muttered, "I don't want you to go." I didn't want to seem like a little girl, unable to take care of herself. I didn't want you to stay because you pitied me, or felt guilty. You owed me nothing. In fact, it was I who owed you everything. I held you, trying to memorize every part of you with my mind, with my body. I let you go, because I thought I had found my home at the Professor's school. It felt like home, people didn't stare at me there. They were always careful with me, but I felt a level of acceptance I never felt before. I let you go.because I thought I could live without you.  
  
I was wrong.  
  
They say home is where the heart is.. and my heart belonged to you.  
  
As soon as you left, I felt alone again. Like some piece of myself was missing. What could it be? My heart? My soul?  
  
It was after you left that I discovered what true loneliness was. Because after you touched me.nothing could compare to you.  
  
Sure I had learnt lessons from Storm, Jean, Cyclops and the Professor. Sure, I had made friends in Jubilee and Kitty. I might of even found more than a friend in Bobby. But I was still alone. I was still missing you. My protector. My soulmate.  
  
Still, I know you will come back for me. I don't know when, or where we'll meet again. I just know we will. Because I still have your dog tags, as a symbol of your promise. I treasure them, whisper to them like they're some magic transmitters that will send my thoughts to you. Maybe you'll take me with you, next time you leave. Maybe I'd have the courage to ask, next time.  
  
Maybe you'll take me to Alaska.  
  
5 Marie*  
  
  
  
As the last word in her mind was jotted onto that page, Rogue put down her pen and looked at what she had written. All those thoughts inside her had just tumbled out, all the words she longed to say, but just never had the courage to. She had written a letter to Logan, a letter of the heart, She never knew she had so much fire.  
  
Would she send him the letter? *No.* She sighed. After all her ranting and raving, she still wasn't mentally prepared to say things that might change their relationship. It was comfortable now. Maybe not enough for her. But comfortable. If he ever heard all these things. things would inevitably change between them. Maybe for the better. maybe for the worse. She knew she wasn't ready to do anything to risk their relationship.  
  
So this was a letter she knew she would never send and he would never receive.  
  
Sighing, Rogue pushed her chair back and ran her hand through her auburn locks. She took one last look at the page that was now filled, opened her desk drawer, put it inside and shut it. She looked at the clock in her desk. An hour had passed. She couldn't believe, where had the time gone? She put her head on the table, and laid her head on the table, thinking, dreaming.  
  
She wondered where he was now. It's been a year since he had left, and didn't she know it. She wondered if he had changed, if he had found any answers to the questions that had plagued his past. Where was he now? What was he doing? In her minds eye she imagined him deep in the Canadian wilderness, at some remote drinking hole, drinking a beer, checking out the girls with a smug smile. She smiled at this image, a warm fuzzy feeling rising towards the man in her mind, in her heart. If only she could see where he was, if only she could know he was safe. She chuckled. *Listen to myself, worrying like a fretful wife or a mother for her son.* Logan could hold his own. Logan would be alright. She knew this of course, but it didn't seem to quiet the yearning she had to see his tall dark figure again. To see that he was alright with her *own* eyes.  
  
|| Rogue ||  
  
Professors Xavier's gentle voice interrupted her thoughts.  
  
|| Please come see me in my study ||  
  
Rogue rose, shaking her leg that had fallen asleep with lack of motion. She was curious what the Professor wanted to see her about. She hadn't done anything wrong. she hoped. Striding across the room on her way to the study, she looked back, her eyes scanning towards Logan's present, sprawled on her bed and lingered on the desk drawer . and what she knew it contained outside. Then she closed the door and the room was swallowed by darkness.  
  
________________________________________________________________________  
  
Rogue opened the dark oak doors to the study. She walk quietly inside, looking around for the Professor. She had visited his office several time during the last year, to discuss her progress and sometimes. her feelings. She had been nervous about telling him her emotions, passions . and desires. She felt exposed, and initially frightened. he could read her mind. he knew about what she feared and what she wanted most in the world. But soon she relaxed and let down her barriers. He had assured her that he would never enter her mind without her permission. or when the need arose. She felt comfortable now in his presence. On many a nights, she had stayed late into the night with him, discussing her power, sometimes even venturing to discuss the horrific things she had seen. like what she had seen in the abyss that was Magneto's mind.  
  
Rogue couldn't see the Professor. He wasn't behind his desk. She walked around the room, to the door to the adjourning room at the left. Nothing. Was the Professor playing a game?  
  
" I'm in here, Rogue"  
  
His voice rang through the room. It seem to come from the door on the right side of the room, leading to his room. She followed it into his bedroom, scanned around. Nothing  
  
"Here"  
  
She opened the door on the other side of his room. It opened, revealing to her. Cerebro. The giant thinking tank. She admired its design, ran her fingers along its sleek lines to where the Professor would usually sit. It seem to hum, like it had a mind of its own, its presence filling the room. But the Professor wasn't in his seat of power, his throne.  
  
|| Getting warm ||  
  
Rogue turned and scanned the back wall of the room. The voice had seem to reverberate from there. She ran to it, hands sliding over its smooth surface, searching.  
  
|| Warmer ||  
  
She found a hidden panel at the base of the wooden wall, switched the panel. The wall slid aside to reveal..  
  
A hidden room. It was a small enclosed room, a little larger than Rogue's own. One one side was a clear window into another room, where technological devices of all shapes and sizes where stored. Advanced gadgets lined the benches and walls.  
  
She saw the familiar crome wheelchair in the center of the room. This room itself was empty, except for a single machine in the center of the room where the Professor was standing, its metal exterior flashed in the light. On its appearance, it's design replicated. Cerebro's?  
  
6 *Wow, I guess it was a miniature verson of it. which would make it . mini- Cerebro??*  
  
The Professor laughed as if he had just read her thought. The sound echoed off the hollow walls.  
  
"Welcome, Marie," he said, turning to view her with his warm eyes, "I see you have found me."  
  
"Yes, Professor, " Rogue replied with a wry grin, " Ya like to keep me on mah toes."  
  
The Professor smiled. He wheeled towards where she was standing. "Sit," he said, gesturing to the chair attached to the machine in the center. It was like the one he usually sat in on Cerebro, made to face the screen. She sat down in the leather chair slowly, getting comfortable. She felt like she was sitting in a position of power. She turned to look at the Professor.  
  
"What did you want to see me about, Professor?" Rogue asked.  
  
Professor Xavier wheeled himself so he was sitting next to her, their eyes at the same level. "It is your birthday today, isn't it Marie?" he asked, well aware of the answer. He watched her silently.  
  
"Yes," Rogue replied. She was confused. what did this have to do with anything?  
  
"You turned seventeen. You're becoming a young woman now," he said, smiling.  
  
Rogue looked down at her hands, then back at his face. "Yeah, I guess so, "she replied uncertainly.  
  
"I believe we've made great progress with you. You are proving yourself to be a honest, trustworthy, strong and humane companion and a team player, " the Professor continued. He turned to stare at her straight in the eyes. "I believe we are very lucky to have you here with us. We all are."  
  
Marie blushed and she mumbled something illegible. Professor Xavier smiled again, and thought, *Ah, always so modest.*  
  
Professor Xavier looked back at the screen in front of her. There was a brief silence before his next question broke the calm.  
  
"Did you get what you wanted, Marie?" he said, turning to stare directly into her eyes again.  
  
She turned to face him, a confused expression on her face.  
  
"Did you get what you really wanted? For your birthday," he repeated, gazing at her.  
  
Rogue blushed a deeper shade of red and turned to examine the machine more carefully instead of answering the question. *Why did he have to be so darn direct?*  
  
Professor Xavier smiled again, then decided to let her go on this one. He would play her game if she wanted him to.  
  
"Impressive isn't it?" he said, turning to stare at the machine's screen again. He wheeled himself around the machine, looking at it thoughtfully, before continuing.  
  
It's design and function is based on Cerebro's. It's principles are the same, it can monitor and sense the brainwaves of mutants. It has sensors on the surface of the screen that replicate touch and smell. You can actually feel and touch what is on the screen. "  
  
Rogue raised her hands up to the screen, looking at it in wonderment.  
  
"It also had emotion sensors that send out feelings and emotions like pheromones. But its main purpose is to observe and monitor where mutants are, so we can check that they are safe, from time to time." He had wheeled himself back by her side. " You just think of the mutant you are trying to find, and it will find them, and show you where they are, and what they're doing. It's kind of like a magic looking glass." Rogue listened to him carefully. He lifted his eyes from looking at the panel behind the screen to stare into hers again. " You can see who you want to see"  
  
Rogue's head whipped up at the last sentence. *Does he mean. I can actually see where Logan is. and what he is doing??* Rogue wondered if he had read what she was thinking when she was in her room, if he had heard her wish to see if Logan was really safe.  
  
Professor Xavier continued on, business as usual, pretending he hadn't seen her surprise and disbelief at him telling her she could do precisely what she had wanted to do for over a year.  
  
"I brought you here, to let you spend some time with the machine. Take it for a test drive, to put it plainly. Take your time, you can look for anyone you want."  
  
As if he didn't know who she was dying to see. She blushed.  
  
The Professor looked kindly into her eyes, then starting wheeling himself away towards the door to exit the room.  
  
Marie looked into her folded palms. Her pulse was racing, her heart jumping at this chance. She looked up into the screen, her own brown eyes blinked back at her from the reflection in the dark black screen. She cocked her head towards the door, watching Professor Xavier leave the room. He was just about to cross the hidden doorway.  
  
"Thank you," she said softly to his retreating back.  
  
The Professor stopped, turned so he could stare at her with those striking blue eyes. "I thought since nothing in my power could give you what you really want in your heart, I might at least give you a glimpse of it," The Professor replied softly. Marie blushed, but felt true affection for this kind man. He had given her the perfect present.  
  
"I know you've been thinking about him, maybe this way he'll know you've been thinking about him too." He smiled at her warmly and she returned the favour. Then she turned to look once more in amazement at the machine that would fulfill her dreams. or part of it.  
  
He had almost closed the door when he stopped and called out, " Oh Rogue?"  
  
She whipped her head around, cheeks flushed with excitement and anticipation.  
  
He smiled again, glad he could help one of his dear students, pleased that he had given her something she wanted so much.  
  
"Happy Birthday"  
  
With that, the door was slid closed and Rogue was alone.  
  
________________________________________________________________________  
  
Rogue stared at the machine in front of her eyes. Could this really be happening?  
  
She stared at the screen wondering what to do, a little bit apprehensive and excited at the same time. *What do I do?*  
  
She got her answer. As if sensing her thoughts the machine came alive, humming.  
  
She put her hands on the panel and just felt the vibrations of its mechanisms coming to life. She breathed deeply. She had wanted this ever since Logan left more than a year ago. But why was she suddenly afraid of what she would see?  
  
*What if he's changed? What if he's hurt. what if.she could hardly even think it .what if he was with. another woman?*  
  
With that thought in her mind, she resolved to turn and run and was just doing so. when the dark screen erupted into light.  
  
And there he was.  
  
7 *Logan*  
  
Her heart lifted with joy at the sight of the familiar cheekbones, the rigid chest, the dark eyes, the hairdo.  
  
He was riding on a motorcycle. Scott's motorcycle, she realized with a cheeky smile. He was buzzing down a dark narrow road, doing about 70. Didn't someone ever teach him about road safety? She wondered with a grin, It was dark like it was at the mansion. The surrounding landscape was smothered in a deep layer of white snow. Is he in Canada? Logan rode on, wind clinging to his worn leather jacket, hair whipping. Rogue wanted to cry with joy . and love at this man, this beast. her friend and protector.  
  
Her soul greeted him like. a lost lover. *No,* she chided herself, *he'll never think of you in that way.*  
  
But her heart thought differently.  
  
Logan pulled into a motel car park and entered a room. He took off his dusty leather jacket and tossed it onto the couch. He stood there, and sighed, running his hand through his hair. He looked tired. *I guess he's having trouble digging up the past.*  
  
He went to the little fridge in the living room and took out a beer, then sprawled onto the couch, drinking. He looked thoughtful. One hand instinctively rose to rub something imaginary around his neck. *His dogtags,* Rogue thought with a smile. She reached her hand under her turtle- neck sweater and felt the cold, smooth metal against her fingers. Logan realized what he was doing, stopped and smiled, remembering where his dogtags where. *Is he thinking of me?*  
  
He seemed to snap out of the daydream he was in, his eyes became focused and clear. He walked into the bathroom, closed the door, and started the disrobe, starting with his shirt. Rogue quickly closed her eyes, cheeks flushed with embarrassment, as if he had caught her watching too carefully. *I really should respect his privacy.* Rogue reasoned as Logan took of his pants. His well-muscled thighs lit up the screen. *I won't watch, I might see something he wouldn't want me to see. It's indecent,* Rogue decided and covered her eyes with her hands. But the thought that the image of Logan nude was not but ten cm away from her face was very tempting and Rogue found that her find could create images far worse and *indecent* than the one her eyes were being shielded from. Sheer curiosity made her slide two of her tightly bound fingers apart. He was already in the shower. The camera only focused on him from above waist level. *The professor must of programmed this machine not to contain any R-rated material,* Rogue thought, half-disappointed and half relieved that the machine had saved her from becoming a would-be peeping tom.  
  
Logan raised his head and opened his mouth under the showerhead, letting water gush into his mouth. The water ran in rivets, streaking down his powerful shoulders and toned chest. Water droplets clung to his hair, his eyelashes, his ears. The water made his body even more sleek than it was usually, streamlining his muscles. Rogue admitted to herself that he had a terrific body. He was a beautiful man. *One who can get any girl he wants,* she reminded herself. She was definitely physically attracted to him. It was the feelings of the heart that were more difficult to decipher.  
  
She spent ten minutes admiring his broad, strong figure in the shower. Suddenly she was startled to hear shook his claws slid out. A nerve on his cheek jumped. He flinched a bit. *It hurts him to take them out.* She looked around the room. Did he sense danger? But Logan didn't seem to be on the alert. He just put his hands by his sides again, claws still extended and let the water run of the sharp, knife's edge of his blades. *He's washing them.*  
  
After a few minutes he held the claws in front of his face and looked at them, silently. *Is he thinking about what it would have been like if he never had them?* Rogue wondered. His gift. His curse. *Of course,* she answered herself, *don't you wish you never had yours everyday?*  
  
At last, one of his hands reached to turn the tap off. The water slowly lessened until no more came. He reached for a towel, and stepped out of the shower. His muscles rippled, causing drops of water to run down his body in streaks. He toweled himself dry, and shook his head like a dog, to dry his hair. After giving his hair a vigorous rub, he began to towel himself again, although the heat of the bathroom had evaporated most of the water from his body. *He doesn't feel clean,* Rogue realized.  
  
The screen followed Logan as he walked into another room, with a towel wrapped around his waist. He didn't turn on the light. Rogue could just make out, by the light of the moonlight in the room, the silhouette of a bed, unmade, with the covers thrown on the floor. He sat onto the bed. Its springs creaked in protest, and pulled his legs onto the bed. He pulled the covers up so they rested just above his waist. There was silence, but Logan wasn't asleep. There was the flutter of his eyelashes against the night air, as he lay there thinking, with his hands behind his head. Logan pulled his hand out from under the covers to touch the spot where his dogtags used to hang. His hands met only skin, but he rubbed it anyway, as if it was a comforting habit. Rogue wrapped her hand around Logan's dogtag, and bent her head down to kiss it. It was a sign that he was always here, and that he would come back for her.  
  
Finally, Logan's breathing quietened, and his body was still. Soft breaths sucking in and breathing out the cool night air was the only sound in the semi-dark room. The glow of neon slithered into the room from the sign outside the motel. Moonlight danced across his face, lighting up his features.  
  
She studied him carefully, mentally comparing him to the image of the man she had memorized a year ago. No he hadn't changed. He was still Logan.  
  
There was a small cut on his upper cheek. It look red and angrily on his features. Where had he gotten that? *In a bar fight,* she mused. *Typical.*  
  
Rogue had found every face told a story. She had found at a very young age that she had a gift for studying faces. With the gift of touch stolen from her, she had learnt to observe and read faces.  
  
Friend or Foe  
  
Run or stay  
  
Logan's face told of a man, world-weary, tough and unforgiving, full of sorrow and integrity. Looking at that face, many people would run away. It was just like him. Closed. Private. Unbreakable. And yet. if they could only see what she saw.  
  
If only they could see him smile at her on a sunny day. If only they could see him. bending over her, eyes full of concern and fear. Fear? A man who was so strong? What did he have to fear? But he was still real. Human  
  
What horrors had those eyes seen? And yet, they still conveyed trust, understanding. love.  
  
All of a sudden, Logan began to jerk and thrash, caught up in another of his all familiar nightmares. Rogue watched as his claws slashed through the air, striking at an invisible enemy, eyes moving fast from left to right under his eyelids, face clenched with pain. He was caught up in the ghosts of the past again. His breathing became irregular as he gasped in short jagged breaths. His sweat soaked the linen sheets beneath him, as his body shuddered with the pain. He lost control of his body, of his humanity, as he became an animal locked in a cage again, strapped to an operating table.  
  
Control. It had meant so much to Logan. It hurt Rogue to see him like this. The only time when Logan lost all control, where he was hurting, where he became the victim. Her mind screamed to comfort him.  
  
Logan's skin shone with perspire moonlight in the moonlight. Skin. There was so much of it. The blanket had slipped down, spread across his waist, leaving his chest bare. Skin cast such a vast proportion of the body, marking forbidden territory for her. But she so wanted to reach out and touch it. Feel his skin against her skin.  
  
[The sun moves high above  
  
Watching below all that moves so fast  
  
Life's taking on a different game  
  
A future that was built to last  
  
I see your face light up my screen  
  
You say hello but I can't hold you  
  
Does this all feel somewhat so real  
  
With no limits to what we can do  
  
We're making such big steps  
  
It's got me in a spin  
  
Are we aiming too high  
  
I'm wanting to feel your skin against my skin  
  
Neon lights are everywhere  
  
Lighting up the crowded streets  
  
It brightens up my floating bed  
  
Where I lay myself to sleep  
  
Did you receive the kiss I sent today  
  
Up on the box in Time Square  
  
How I loved the once and yesterday  
  
Before it vanished into thin air  
  
You're never really here  
  
Is this all a big mistake  
  
My heart is feeling cold  
  
I don't want to fake it  
  
We're making such big steps  
  
It's got me in a spin  
  
Are we aiming too high  
  
I'm wanting to feel your skin against my skin]  
  
Like in a trance, Rogue took off her gloves, and reached out her hand to touch his chest on the screen, frantically wanting to calm him, to make him feel safe again. How she wished she could reach and hold his arms down. *It's okay Logan, you're okay. I'm here.* Rogue wished that somehow she could tell him and he would hear her.  
  
She gasped, a short sharp gasp, as her hand touched his skin. It was warm, smooth. The screen actually felt warm and smooth, like his skin. The Professor's words echoed in her head. *You can actually feel and touch what is on the screen.* She could actually feel his skin against hers. Contact.  
  
Her hands immediately started to rub his chest, trying to soothe him, like a mother to a sick child. She whispered, " Shhhhh, it's okay Logan," as her hands traced warm circles across his chest. She could hear his erratically fast heartbeat through her fingers. *Thump-thump thump-thump thump-thump*  
  
Suddenly, his muscles relaxed and his claws stopped in mid-air, descending to fall besides his body. He lay perfectly still, his breathing slowing, becoming even. His heartbeat slowed to a steady pace. *Thud. Thud. Thud. *  
  
The pained expression on his face eased, replaced by something else. It looked so much like. serenity. This was the closest to peace, she had ever seen Logan reach. It was peace, almost.  
  
Her hands slowing ceased rubbing, No longer in a hurry to soothe him, she was free to explore. This was the most intimate contact she'd ever had with a human being. Startled, she realized she didn't feel the tug of his life force through her fingers. She was free to touch him, without fearing she would hurt him. *At last. *  
  
She started running her fingers gently over his chest, enjoying the warmth that radiated onto her fingers. She slid her fingers along his tight muscles, caressing his skin, giving him a sort of. massage. He had done so much for her. maybe she could give him something back. She wished he could feel her touch.  
  
Her hand moved onto his arm. She gently stroked his bicep, feeling the strength beneath. How many times had these arms wrapped around her? His skin still felt feverishly hot.  
  
Her pulse quickened, and she felt a deep hidden emotion awaken in her. *Desire?* She wondered. *No, love*, cried her heart.  
  
She touched the back of his hand, feeling the rough skin. His palms were worn and calloused, years of work and battling the elements apparent. But those hands could be so gentle, when he stroke her hair.  
  
His head laid gently on the pillow. She reached out her fingers to touch his face.  
  
His skin was soft, almost silky. Using one finger, she traced his strong cheekbones, feeling their solidity. Only a thin layer of skin hid the metal she knew was moulded to his bones. She touched his mouth, nose, ears and eyelids. She stroked his cheek and forehead with her palm, using a finger to rub back a stray lock of hair that fell onto his forehead.  
  
Then, bending over closer to the screen, she kissed his cheek, gently, briefly. Her body breathed a sigh of contentment. Gently, she raised her lips to his eyelids and kissed them too. Lowering her mouth, she kissed his straight, stubborn nose. Then, finally, she closed her eyes and lowered her lips to meet his.  
  
Time seem to stop as she lowered her lips to meet his mouth. An eternity seemed to passed before. contact. She felt the soft folds of his lips against hers. She kissed him, a soft, tender kiss of love. His lips tasted of rain and beer, of cigars and flowers, sweet and bitter at the same time. God, she felt her mind was exploding with passion, as she caressed his soft, yielding lips with hers. *If only I could,* Rogue thought, *If only he could feel it too.*  
  
She pulled back, slightly out of breath and reclined back into her chair to watch him sleep. God, what she would do for this man. He made her feel special. He made her want to live.  
  
He looked like a child when he slept, head laid gently on the pillow. It was the only time he came close to looking vulnerable. She had no idea how much time had passed, everyone must have been asleep by now. But she didn't feel tired and she didn't want to leave him. Instead she just watched his slumber, keeping a vigil over him, guarding him. How content she felt just to be near him. She could spend an eternity feeling like that.  
  
But suddenly the lights in the mansion flickered and went out. The image on the screen began to fade. A small sound of protest was omitted from her throat as Logan began to disappear from the screen. She pressed her fingers to her lips, then touched his mouth with them as the image receded into darkness.  
  
An alarm could be heard now, over the mansion. Rogue stood, looking around the room. It was an evacuation signal, she was sure of it. *I better go see what's going on,* she thought, turning to face the door, ready to leave. But something implored her to touch the screen again.  
  
She reached out two fingers to touch the now darkened screen, just to feel its warmth radiate onto her fingers. Her fingers, her lips, everywhere she had touched *him* seemed to buzz. They seemed to be saying, in little voices jumping to be heard, *Logan was here.*  
  
Then, resolute, she spun her on her heel and walked out of the dark room, closing the door behind her. Silence. The room was still again.  
  
But only for a brief moment. The screen began to light up again, as the back-up generator whirled into action. There was Logan again, sleeping, peaceful. But for how long?  
  
Back on the screen, devoid of the comforting presence he had felt a moment ago, Logan began thrashing again, claws extended, face wrought with pain, as the ghosts of the past caught up with him again.  
  
________________________________________________________________________  
  
Rogue walked past Cerebro into Professor Xavier's bedroom, then past his study in the hall way. She wondered what was going on, why they were evacuating the school.  
  
She walked into the hallway and turned the corner into the main hall.  
  
She smelt it, felt it, heard it and saw it at the same time. *Smoke. Heat. Roar.*  
  
*FIRE*  
  
________________________________________________________________________  
  
Storm stood by one exit of the mansion in her dressing gown, white hair billowing around her face. She shouted," Everyone keep calm and exit in single file." She was drowned out by the din of girls screaming and shouting as bodies hurried in and out of rooms. Students rushed down the hall, running. There was fear and delirium everywhere.  
  
Storm quickly pushed students of the exit she was manning. In hordes, they ran past her, all trying to get out at once. She watched Jean and Scott run into room after room, yelling at students to get out NOW. Professor Xavier was trying to keep everyone calm, mentally sending out soothing telepathic feelings of calm and order. So far, it wasn't working.  
  
Most of the students in the east wing had evacuated. The fire was already ravaged the second floor and was spreading downstairs. She watched as Bobby and Jubilee ran towards her, in their pajamas.  
  
"Where's Rouge?" She yelled at them, over the noise.  
  
They looked at her blankly and exchanged looks worriedly.  
  
"We don't know! We haven't seen her," they answer, a degree of panic in their voices.  
  
Storm gestured to them to exit with the rest of the students and then abandoned her post to find Jean and Scott. She ran into them in the hall.  
  
"Jean, Scott, have any of you seen Rogue?" Storm asked them. They both shook their heads. Jean frowned, "Is she missing, Storm?"  
  
Storm nodded." None of the kids have seen her and I haven't seen her exit. I don't know where she could be," she answered, swallowing a lump in her throat. *No need to panic yet Storm. *  
  
|| Storm ||  
  
The Professor's voice flooded her mind  
  
|| She's in my study ||  
  
Storm looked up the staircase, at the flame ball that had already swallowed most of the second story. Rogue was up there? Jean and Storm shared a grim look.  
  
Storm nodded at Jean. "I'll go find her, you handle the other kids," she said, turning so Jean wouldn't see the tears forming at the thought of her young friend in danger. Jean nodded thoughtfully at Storms turned back and put a hand on her shoulder. Storm turned to meet Jean's eyes.  
  
"She'll be okay. You'll find her," Jean said with more conviction that she felt. Storm nodded and turned, running down the hallway towards the main hall.  
  
"She'll be okay. You'll find her," Jean whispered as Storm disappeared out of sight, like a little prayer, to convince herself.  
  
________________________________________________________________________  
  
Storm raced down the hallways, wind flying through her hair.  
  
She had to find Rogue. She just had to.  
  
The thought of losing the young women with the sassy brown eyes and gentle smile. the thought of finding her de-.. No, she couldn't think of that.  
  
*I'm coming for you Rogue. Please be strong. Please be okay.*  
  
Those words she repeated like a mantra in her head, willing herself to believe, as she raced towards the study. Rogue might have gone down the stairs to the main hall. She raced towards it even faster, like lightning through the sky.  
  
She could not afford to lose a friend. Not today. And definitely not Rogue.  
  
She was only seventeen.  
  
________________________________________________________________________  
  
Rogue gasped at the scene in front of her. The grand staircase was on fire as was much of the main hall. Flames licked at the second story banister.  
  
*How the hell am I gonna get out?* Rogue wondered.  
  
The second storey had been devoured by flames. She needed to get downstairs quickly, but the staircase was alight. Climbing over the banister, Rogue closed her eyes, said a little prayer and jumped.  
  
She landed on her feet, in a crouch, hands down on the burning carpet. She quickly somersaulted over her shoulder to the alcove under the stairs, that wasn't alight.  
  
She surveyed her surroundings.  
  
She was caught in a ring of fire. The fire had devoured the walls around her, burning all the surrounded her. She looked towards the hallway to the east exit. A smoldering piece of wood blocked that exit. She looked towards the west wing. Through the burning door frame she could see flames flickering in the distance, blocking her escape. She was trapped.  
  
Burning debris began to fall, as the pillars burned. The roof was starting to cave in. She dodged bits of burning wood as the staircase collapsed, light more sparks on the wooden floorboards. Rogue looked up, down, left, right, trying to find a way to escape. Her chances looked slim, and her hope was fading fast.  
  
She look at the fiberglass ceiling. She could see the night sky through the large, glass skylight. If only she could fly. She had to make a choice, the east exit or the west exit. Both looked like dead ends but she had to try. She couldn't just wait here to die.  
  
She ran towards the east exit. She figured she might have a better chance since the wind was blowing westwards.  
  
8 C.RACK!!  
  
Large chunks of the ceiling started to collapse, sending crushing chunks of wood down like hail. Rogue leapt out of the way as a huge wooden pillar crashed down on the position she was just standing. She started running faster, towards the west exit, not watching where she was going, just running FOR HER LIFE!!.  
  
9 C.RACK!!!  
  
Rogue didn't see a second wooden pillar start its descent towards the floor. The grand hall was collapsing. She didn't see it swing down behind her until. BAM! It collapsed on her mid-section, sending her towards the floor. She hit her head hard on the wooden floorboards as the heavy wood crushed her legs onto the floor. She couldn't move  
  
Her legs felt like dead weights. Her head ached terribly. She was beginning to feel very tired. The world was starting to black out.  
  
  
  
Storm stopped running when she saw the grand hall. It was a burning fireball. A wall of five metres tall blocked her entrance to the main hall. She was sure that was where Rogue was. She had checked all the other parts of the house with no success. Her heart hammered against her rib cage painfully. But it didn't matter. She had to save Rogue.  
  
She ran to the other side of the hall, trying to find a way past the fire. But it had surrounded the main hall. She had no way of getting into the main hall unless she could literally walk through fire. She was going to fail to save Rogue.  
  
Unless. Storm had no way of walking through fire, but maybe she could fly *over* it. If she could get on the roof, she might be able to jump through the ceiling.  
  
Storm calmed herself. Her chest heaved from the effort. Then she focused her mind on conjuring some wind.  
  
Her eyes turned white.  
  
A tornado started to whirl around her, sending her hair whipping against her face. She took no heed and continued to concentrate.  
  
Storm began to rise.  
  
________________________________________________________________________  
  
Rogue lay still under the giant wooden pillar. She was starting to lose consciousness. She was seeing blue lines streak over her sight. Her vision was starting to fade.  
  
*What's gonna happen to me?* She thought, fighting the brain-numbing fear.  
  
Her eyelids started to feel heavy.  
  
10 *No, I must keep awake,* she thought with determination. But her body was so tired, so sore.  
  
*A few minutes rest won't hurt,* her mind reasoned. And slowly, her eyelids began to droop as she begin to lose herself in a world of darkness.  
  
11 CRASH!!!  
  
She heard the sound of glass breaking. Little fragments of glass rained down on her. She turned her cheek and felt glass embedded in her cheek.  
  
She really wanted to sleep now. Her eyes were closed, but her mind struggled to keep awake. She began to give in to the comforting blackness.  
  
A breeze began to escalate over her. She could feel her hair slowly lifting and whirling around her. She felt wind against her face.  
  
Someone was coming for her.  
  
12 *Logan*  
  
That was her last rational thought, as her world turned black.  
  
________________________________________________________________________  
  
*~ "TO repress one's feelings only makes them stronger" ~*- Michelle Yeoh in 'Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon'  
  
~ "WHO am I? I am the invincible sword goddess" ~* - Zhang Zi Yi as Jen Yu in 'Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon'  
  
END  
  
IF I don't get writer's block (fan fic writer's nightmare) I will definitely continue this as a series. The fic I have planned after this one is from Logan POV reflecting on his feelings for Marie. And the one after that will have very heavy Rogue/ Logan angst that we like so much.. IT WILL BE FUN ( * Evil Grin* Who knows? Maybe feedback will give me some ideas? Suggestions? *Hint , hint*  
  
Remember, I never claimed I really know these characters, never seen the movie, never read the cartoon. So don't kill me if there are some characteristics slightly dodgy allocated to any characters. Any constructive criticism is accepted. Please, be kind, unwind!! AND don't anyone ever tell me that there is no such word as 'chocolately' Haven't you ever read that Lewis Caroll poem where he makes up all the words? 


End file.
